Page 151 of Into the Fire

Dark eyes and red lips and a long-sleeved sweater to cover her arms.

They both had so many scars to hide.

He held up the key to the Lincoln Heights house. “I promised to return this to you. But it’s really just an excuse to look at you one more time.”

He set the key in her hand. His fingertips brushed her palm. The smell of her perfume—orange blossom and vanilla—hit a spot in his brain that turned present into past and rolled them together.

She closed her fist around the key. Stared down at her knuckles. She looked like she needed to say something, so he waited and then waited some more.

“My dad called me last night,” she finally said. “He told me what you agreed to. The deal you struck. And why you did it.”

Her eyes were shut, and he couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or scream at him.

He said, “If you ever forgive me…” And then he lost the words.

She kept her eyes closed. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling.

He turned to walk off.

Her voice caught him halfway to the brick wall.

“I’m just—” She broke off in a sob. And then, “I’m just having an unlucky run. If you’re smart, you’ll get as far from me as possible.”

He looked down, and the grass got blurry and the walkway and the roses and the street beyond.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not that smart.”

He turned around.

And he lifted his gaze.

64

A Forever Fall

After loading up the truck vaults with the required gear, Evan stopped by Joey’s on his way to the desert. Construction trucks lined the block, and workers busied themselves installing a premium steel-front door and replacing the broken light fixtures.

Evan stepped past them, heading for the stairs, and climbed to the second floor. Joey’s door was open, and she was ushering a repairman out, holding Dog the dog by the collar so he wouldn’t scramble to freedom. His stitches had come out, the horseshoe scar marking his chest proudly.

Evan entered, and Dog rammed his nose into his crotch until Evan crouched and scratched behind his ears. A big fluffy red dog bed lay beneath the pull-up bar, a new addition.

“God,” Joey said. “All the construction’s been a friggin’ nightmare. They’re putting in new security windows on every floor.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I saw a notice downstairs.”

He sensed Joey’s attention sharpen and kept his gaze on the dog.

“Right,” she said. “From the new owner.”

Evan examined a hangnail.

“Do you know where this new owner’s from?” she said. “I mean, that’s the sort of thing you’d research, right?”

“I guess a consortium out of Abu Dhabi.”

“A consortium,” she said. “Out of Abu Dhabi.”

He could feel her eyes lasering through him.